Primeval Series 6 Episode 2 - Collateral Damage
by kindervelter
Summary: In the second episode of Series 6, "Collateral Damage", Jess' day off turns deadly when an anomaly opens in the museum she's visiting with her family. Locked inside by a malfunctioning security system, Jess and the Core Team must use all their skills to outwit a vicious band of raptors and escape before time runs out. Meanwhile, Emily and Becker each make unsettling discoveries.
1. Chapter 1

Primeval

Series 6, Episode 2

"Collateral Damage"

 _Previously on "Primeval":_

 _New team leader Ryan Hunt is put to the test when a passenger plane disappears through an aerial anomaly. As the Core Team works with helicopter pilot Jo, a recently demoted Emily must work with Team Three to stop an ancient bird of prey from killing thousands in modern day London._

 _When things go south in the past and the team crash lands, resulting in massive injuries for Hunt, Becker, and Matt, Abby strikes off on her own to save several passengers who left the plane. While alone in the jungle she discovers an unsettling secret military compound - and is saved from mercenaries by a mysterious version of Matt._

 _Meanwhile, in the present, Connor works with Emily and Team Three to bring down the creature before it wipes out a power station, and Emily butts heads with her new team leader, Eric Reddington. Eventually the creature is killed, the city is saved, and the plane makes it back to the present without any casualties, and yet... not all ends as well as it seems at the ARC. Hunt's secondary purposes are still unknown, and the mystery of Matt's doppelgangers is only just beginning. With dark intentions and darker secrets all around them, there's only one thing the team can be certain of: trust no one._

* * *

Chapter 1

"Auntie Jess, look at the dinos!"

Jessica Parker had spent what she considered to be more than an adequate amount of time looking at "dinos"... in fact, one could describe doing just that as her day job. She'd seen enough of the bloody creatures to last her a lifetime - indeed, her lifetime had been very nearly ended by a number of them - yet she found herself unable to resist as her young niece, Henrietta, dragged her over to the Tyrannosaur skeleton.

"It's great, Hen. How heavy do you think that dino was?"

"Not as heavy as the dino that you saw in the city." Jess couldn't help but cringe as her niece brought up the events of Convergence that had transpired a few months prior… events that had very nearly gotten Jess killed and the universe pulled to shreds.

"Hen, are you bothering auntie Jess about the dinosaurs again?" Jess spun around on her heels and cracked a smile as she saw her older brother, Howie, approach them. His wife was out of town and Jess had agreed to take her brother and his daughter to the history museum to help them pass the time… though she'd forgotten, in all honesty, how much of the museum she'd seen come to life in her time at the ARC.

"No bother at all. I'd be excited too if I had an aunt who'd seen real life… er, creatures," Jess said, trying her best not to let her smile falter. Howie walked forward and took Henrietta's hand, guiding his six-year-old daughter away from the dinosaurs and to an exhibit on "cromagnon man" - something Jess knew to be a fancy word for "cave people".

"Thanks for doing this, Jess. Hen doesn't get to see you enough - and neither do I for that matter."

"Well, in my defense, my job is literally keeping the planet safe from prehistoric monsters…" Jess countered. It was one of the few things she'd been grateful of since Convergence: the knowledge that she could talk about her job openly, ridiculous though it may sound, without fear of being locked away by the government. The secret was out, which meant no more lying to her friends and family about why she always seemed to be missing from holidays, birthday parties, weddings… God, she'd missed a lot.

"Either way, I'm glad we got to do this. It means a lot to both of us." Howie motioned towards Henrietta, who was intently reading the display information on the cave men, with his free hand. Jess smiled and nodded, walking up to stand on her niece's other side.

"What do you say, shall we all get some lunch in the 'Cretaceous Cafe'? I hear they've got dino shaped crisps," Jess said, taking Henrietta's free hand. Her niece nodded excitedly and the three set off down the stairs to find the cafe, unaware of the danger spinning into existence a few floors beneath their feet.

* * *

James Lester massaged his temples irritably, trying to suppress a growing headache. Seated in front of him were two of the ARC's "finest" (Lester knew from experience that "finest" around there meant "most insane"), and at the moment their bickering reminded him more of a pair of school children than grown adults who regularly fought dinosaurs.

"Hunt made a bad call in the field and nobody's doing anything about it. Lester, you can't just let this guy slide on through just because he's the minister's golden boy." This particularly annoying complaint came courtesy of Matt Anderson, time traveller and disgraced former leader of the ARC's core team. Seated to his left was Ryan Hunt, aforementioned "golden boy"; after Matt's fall from grace, the minister had thought it fitting to bring in a "ringer" of sorts, someone to bridge the gap between the slap dash organization the ARC had been operating as and the new, improved version they were trying to usher in.

James Lester didn't disagree, though he knew for his own safety never to say that to Matt.

"Look, Matt, it's been three weeks since I joined this team and we've been performing better than your team ever did before. Our incursion response time is up twelve percent from this time last year… before _I_ came on board," Hunt retorted; he seemed to Lester to always know just which buttons to push to get a rise out of somebody.

"Shove the statistics up your ass, Hunt," Matt grumbled back, looking more like a child who'd had his milk money stolen by the schoolyard bully than a grown man arguing about his status as a professional. Lester might have laughed... if he had the taste for such things.

When he could no longer stomach the sound of the two men arguing, Lester put his foot down.

"Listen, if we're quite honest I just don't care. Matt, if you could get over your pride on your own time and stop using up my billable hours that would be simply smashing; and Hunt, do try not to alienate the _entire_ team in your first month on the job." Hunt and Matt sat silently, staring at Lester. He rolled his eyes. "That's all. You may go."

With a dirty glance between them Matt and Hunt stood up and shuffled out of the room. Finally alone, Lester pulled open his desk drawer, bringing a bottle of scotch and a small glass cup out. Minister be damned - if he didn't drink on the job he'd have quit the job years ago.

* * *

"Can you believe Lester's making us do a damn follow up interview? I mean, it's not like we're the newbies - we've both been on the job for a while now."

Emily Merchant couldn't help but smile a little at this - if Eric knew more about her past, knew just how long she'd _really_ been on the job, he might have spoken more carefully. Still, Emily couldn't deny that she was gradually warming up to her new field team leader. Eric Reddington was an acquired taste, to be sure, but in a way she didn't mind that… his forthrightness wasn't dissimilar to her own, much as it pained her to admit it.

"It's not as though we have much better to do at the ARC. Isn't the point of our work to be useful wherever we can be?" _Careful, Emily,_ she thought to herself. _You're 1800's sensibilities are showing._

"Yeah, well, it still sucks." Eric tilted his hands on the wheel and the ARC field vehicle swung gracefully around a corner, pulling onto a small dirt road. Emily peered out the window and counted the numbers on the houses.

"451, 452… there! 456." Eric slammed the breaks, a cloud of dust billowing around the car as it skidded to a stop. As the dirt settled she shot Eric a contentious look; not that she herself could have driven a car much better, but the way the car jolted back and forth reminded her more of a horse drawn carriage than a sleek automobile. She punched the button to release her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, her work boots connecting firmly with the ground beneath her.

"You ever done one of these before?" Emily asked as Eric walked around the side of the car, tugging his ARC jacket onto his shoulders to combat the chilled morning air.

"Dozens of times. All newbies do. You tellin' me you never did a Civilian Incursion Incident Report?" Eric asked, cocking his eyebrow at her as he pulled the pen and paper of out of his pocket.

"I kind of… skipped the 'newbie' part," Emily covered lamely. She was increasingly discovering that keeping the secret of her past a secret from her new team was more difficult than she'd ever expected. Eric looked as though he was about to make another comment, but instead shook his head and examined his notebook.

As they walked up the steps to Dr. Isabelle Grayson's house Emily stole several looks around the property; it was clear from what she was seeing that Grayson wanted for very little, yet Emily noticed some inconsistencies that gave her pause.

"Eric, look at that," Emily said, grabbing his arm and directing his attention to the driveway.

"Yeah, she's got an ugly white Prius and a BMW. She's rich. What's so wrong with that?"

"But why would she have two cars if she's a single parent?"

"Like I said: she's rich. Rich people buy whatever they want no matter how ridiculous it is. They don't worry about the things us regular folk do." With a shake of her head Emily let it drop, but somehow it still bothered her. Eric rang the doorbell and a few moments later Grayson appeared.

"You two?" she asked, clearly surprised by their presence… or surprised that they were even alive.

"Us two," Eric said, slipping a foot into the door and inviting himself in. "We're here to do a follow-up interview for the Anomaly Research Center. It's just standard procedure." He smiled jovially, talking over Dr. Grayson's concerned objections and walking into the house. Emily rolled her eyes and followed suit, trying to console the widow that it would only take a moment of her time.

"We just have a few questions to ask you, and then we'll be out of your hair," Emily explained, looking around curiously as Dr. Grayson led her and Eric to a small dining room table. The room butted up against the kitchen and over the small counter Emily could see the Grayson's refrigerator, covered in drawings that, she guessed, were the work of her son. One of them looked oddly familiar to her, though…

"So, Dr. Grayson, do you feel you've had any negative emotions or experiences following your encounter with the creature?" Eric asked, snapping Emily back to reality. She watched closely as Grayson's eyes shifted around, no doubt weighting answers in her head.

"No. None at all."

"And no odd occurrences, dizziness, sudden mood swings, or family issues?" As if on cue a little boy thundered out of the hallway adjacent to the dining room, a fighter jet in one hand zooming after the t-rex in his other. Grayson smiled nervously at her son, who dropped his game as soon as he caught sight of Emily and Eric.

"Honey, these people are here to do some very important business with mommy. Can you go play in your room for just a little while longer."

"Come on sport, we'll go play outside and leave mommy to her business." Emily scrunched her face in confusion as the man attached to the voice she'd just heard rounded the corner and picked the boy up.

"Thank you, Kyle," Dr. Grayson said, turning her attention back to Emily and Eric.

"Was that your boyfriend?" Emily asked, discarding the sheet of pre-set questions they were meant to ask.

"No, my husband." Emily pursed her lips, her eyes shifting between Isabelle's "husband" and Isabelle herself. Eric cocked an eyebrow at her; _what are you getting at?_

"He's your son's stepfather, then?"

"No, Kyle is Trevor's father. We've been together for almost fifteen years now… in fact, our anniversary is just next week," Grayson explained, a twinkle in her eye. Emily opened her mouth to ask another question, but her attempt was met with an elbow to the ribs by Eric. He motioned to the Incursion Report in his hands, which still had three blank pages to be filled out.

Emily huffed, staring out the window and rolling things over in her mind. The conversation between Eric and Dr. Grayson faded to a dull whisper as she replayed the events at the power station over and over again.

 _'It's too risky. We can't waste the time."_

 _"Look, I have a son at home whose father died a year ago."_

 _His father died a year ago._

* * *

Hank Smith grumbled several obscenities to himself as he descended the stairs to the museum's basement storage facility.

"This damn places gives me the creeps," he expressed aloud, as though his audible voice could ward off whatever perceived evil spirits he was next to sure were down there. He yanked the flashlight out of his utility belt and switched it on, bemoaning the rather small beam that it was able to cast.

 _"Find the headpiece that goes with this mummy,"_ his boss had said. What a freakin' jerk. Hank had a degree in European history and here he was working for freaking minimum wage in a freaking history museum for a freaking cripple of a boss and -

A weird nose snarled out of the darkness to his right, reverberating off all the metal piping and sending a shiver down his spine. Damn, this place gave him the creeps. Probably freakin' cursed by all the artifacts that they'd stored down there.

He swiveled on his heels, throwing the beam towards where the noise seemed to have originated. _It's nothing, Hank._ He told himself, though it did little to comfort his damn nerves or stop his damn hands from shaking. _It's just an old building._

But then the noise came again, this time off towards the left. He jumped, shining the light down the narrow passage and nearly pissing himself when he saw a caveman poised to throw a damn spear at him.

"Just an exhibit…" he muttered. He moved down the hallway towards the holding area for egyptian artifacts, steeling his own nerves against the wooly mammoths, the saber tooth tigers, the velociraptors, the -

Holy shit, did that one move? He whipped the light around and shined it on the raptor. It stayed still. Damn, these exhibits were so life-like these days. He turned back around in time to see the teeth flying out of the darkness toward him. The giant jaws latched onto his head and Hank screamed in pain, falling to the floor as a pair of claws ripped through his stomach and yanked on his intestines. A second pair of jaws clamped down on his left leg and yanked it off.

As his head rolled to the side and an odd sense of calm came over him, and suddenly he knew it was the end. No more fighting, just peace. A light began to glow in the distance, first all together and then shimmering in a hundred pieces, swirling around like shards of glass. _Pretty,_ he thought, barely noticing as the raptor gripped his neck in its jaws and snapped them shut.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:**_

 _Hey guys. Here's chapter 2. I've not got much to say except this: if you're still sticking with these stories, you're awesome. Episode 2 is really about to heat up. Also, comment. Just, like, do it. That's all. Enjoy._

* * *

Chapter 2

"Connor, I know things have been crazy the past few weeks, but have you had the chance to fix up my old phone?" Connor cracked a smile as Abby approached him at the HUB, even if she was inquiring about their latest "secret-and-dangerous project".

"Abs, I'm working on it. If you haven't noticed, I'm doing the job of two people today," he said, more jokingly than anything else. Abby's look grew more tense and he could tell she was beginning to worry about it. "I'll get to work on it right now, since I've got a minute. As long as the alert doesn't -" _Damn it._

As per usual, the moment Connor opened his big mouth was the moment an anomaly decided to spin up somewhere.

"Looks like we've got a live one, guys."

The team began to pour into the HUB from all corners of the ARC, and soon enough Connor and Abby were joined by Matt, Becker, and Hunt.

"Where?" Becker asked, holstering a weapon - it seemed to Connor that Becker _always_ had a weapon on him - before stepping up next to the Hub.

"Natural History Museum, Kings Street."

"At least it's close by…" Becker mumbled. Connor looked up in time to see his friend shoot a sideways glance at Matt and Hunt, who were giving each other increasingly dirty looks as they spoke.

"Incursion's not quite so fun with Luke and Leia bickering the whole time, aye?" Connor asked. Becker shot him a look that said, in no uncertain terms, _don't ever talk to me about your nerd stuff again_. Connor simply rolled his eyes.

"Do we know anything else about the incursion yet?" Becker asked, clearly content to move on from their awkward interaction.

"Nothing. No more info so far."

"Well call the museum staff and have them quietly start to evacuate the museum until we know what we're dealing with. Don't want to cause a panic if we don't have to," Hunt instructed. "Connor, you stay here and man the Hub - the four of us can handle this one."

Connor shot him an annoyed glance as he pulled up the phone number for the museum's security staff, though his glare was nothing compared to Matt's. _If looks could kill…_

"Got it," Connor said finally, in an attempt to defuse the situation as much as to actively prevent a creature incursion. "I'll place the call, you lot get on the road. Sure you don't need more for this one, mate?"

Hunt ignored him.

"OK, teams of two, people. Matt and Becker, when we get there I need you to find the anomaly and lock it down. Abby and I will assist with the evacuation and keep people safe from any potential incursions. Good?"

Nods all around. Connor tuned out as the museum security staff came on the line.

"Hello? Yes, this is the Anomaly Research Center. We've got some information, but we don't want anyone to panic…"

* * *

 _"Due to a security issue, all exhibits are now closed. Please make your way calmly and quickly to the nearest exit, and come again soon. Thank you."_

Jess rolled her eyes as the pre-recorded voice came on over the loudspeaker, announcing that her one day off in basically forever had just been ruined. With a sigh she looked at her brother, who in turn stared down at his daughter. _Who's gonna tell her?_

"Listen, Hen. The museum has to close a little early today, so auntie Jess and I are gonna take you to get some ice cream. Does that sound ok?"

Her niece looked unconvinced.

"More dinos," she huffed, crossing her arms in front of her.

"We can come back another, time sweetie. Today just didn't turn out."

"No. We're staying." Jess reached to pick up her niece, but before she could get her in her grip the little girl was racing off down the hall, disappearing around a corner. Jess rolled her eyes and galloped after her, listening to her own heels click a rhythm into the floor and never once thinking that just beneath her one of the fiercest predators in history was making its way up the stairs. LLLLL

Despite her impending marriage to Connor Temple, basically the lord of the geeks, Abby Maitland still felt uncomfortable around technology. To her it seemed unreliable, wild almost… unpredictable in a way that the natural world, for all of its freak accidents and animal instincts, wasn't. After all, it was easy to predict how a rhinoceros, or even a triceratops, would react to a virus; with a computer, not so much.

Her own insecurities about technology were made especially clear to her as she sat in the main security office of the Natural History Museum, unsure of what exactly to do but definitely sure she should be doing _something._

"So, what kind of security measures do you have in place?" she asked lamely. Tyler Lupone, the twenty something, muscularly built security chief, looked up from his chair to meet her gaze.

"Locking exhibit doors with key pad entry, motion security sensors, a stocked armory of non-lethal immobilization devices and, just in case, a lockdown protocol."

"Lockdown protocol?"

"We input a code into the security mainframe and it locks everything; doors, windows, bathrooms, storage closets, the exhibits, everything. Nothing moves without our say so. And since I'm the only one with the code to lift it, nothing and no one is getting in or out without me knowing about it."

"What about the curator? Doesn't he have the code?"

"Nope. Mr. Palmer evacuated with everyone else. Left me in charge. It's standard protocol for an evacuation procedure."

Abby thought about this for a moment.

"Any other security team members besides yourself?"

"Just Hank, but he's gone MIA. State of the art security system means limited personnel needed on site. Hank and I can run it all from this room." Abby snapped to attention at this.

"But Hank's not here today? You mean you've got somebody missing?"

"Yeah, for about an hour. Hank's never been a model employee though… probably just stepped out for a smoke and never came back." Tyler said, pulling up a screen detailing the security measures and clicking through a few things. As he worked, Abby mulled over what the best course of action would be.

"Hunt, you there?" she asked into her headpiece.

Static, then a crackling response: "I'm here. What've we got?"

"State of the art security system. Lock the whole place down with the touch of a button. And get this: they've got a security guard missing, about an hour now."

"OK. Hold off on lockdown until we know what we're dealing with. Becker's outside clearing a safe zone around the museum; I'm on my way up to meet you in the security office now while Matt's checking the first three floors, but I'm pretty sure they've gotten everyone out of here. Should be just us."

* * *

A floor down and a few hallways over from Hunt's position, Jess and her brother were trying desperately to get Henrietta to unlock the bathroom door so they could finally, finally leave.

"Come on, Hen, this is ridiculous. We can come back tomorrow if you like!" Howie shouted, pounding on the door, negotiating with a damn six-year-old.

"Dinos!" was her simple response… Simple, yet completely annoying.

"Hen, we've got to go. The museum's closed by now!" Jess said, hoping against hope that her niece might respond to some kind of reasoning. So distracted was she with her task that she failed to notice the clicking of taloned feet growing ever louder behind her.

"Bet dealing with my daughter's about as easy as dealing with that T-rex," Howie joked, smiling at Jess. She flashed back one of her patented _my life is in shambles but I'll smile anyway because that's who I am_ smiles.

"Let's just say it's a different beast entirely. Now if we could just get her to open the door we could -" Jess was rudely interrupted, the sound of her own voice replaced in her ears with a loud snarl and her brother's screaming. In an instant her attention flashed from the door to Howie, who currently had one foot between the jaws of a velociraptor.

 _Run, Jess._ The impulse flashed through her mind like a neon sign, electrons firing in her brain and pushing her to run, run, just get the hell out of there, but she pushed back because that was her brother and if she could survive a freaking future predator and the near destruction of the universe she could survive this.

"Run, Jess!" Damnit, she'd told herself to shut up. Wait, no, that wasn't her; it was Howie. Still screaming, that was a good sign.

Bravely, stupidly, Jess pulled her heel off and smashed it into the velociraptor's skull, the stiletto sticking the creature's eye and causing it to recoil in pain and loosen the grip of its jaws. It took a few awkward steps back before shaking her shoe out of its face and training its very angry eye on Jess.

The other heel was freaking _off_ before she even had time to register that she was removing it and now it was time to listen to herself; now it was time to _run_.

* * *

"Peter, you might find this an impertinent question, but do you remember that woman we saved from the power plant a few weeks ago saying something about her husband?"

Emily was seated across from her new team mate in one of the ARC's break rooms, sipping coffee and trying to make the conversation seem as innocuous as possible; unfortunately, he'd learned over the years that "innocuous" wasn't exactly in her wheelhouse.

"I think so. Yeah, yeah I do. Why do you ask?"

"No reason, really. Eric and I did a follow up interview with her and I was just trying to remember." Emily said, hoping he'd give a little more without her having to _ask_ for a little more. Peter did not disappoint.

"Surprised you don't remember. She said her husband was a terrible cook and she wasn't going to leave her son alone with him to eat frozen dinners for the rest of his life. Thought it was odd she'd be joking at a time like that," Peter replied, taking a sip of his coffee and pulling a stale doughnut off the plate in the middle of the table. Emily pondered doing the same, but rethought it; she may have come from the time of dysentery and no indoor plumbing, but even she wouldn't stoop that low.

"Thanks, Peter." He nodded and smiled around a mouthful of doughnut, Emily flashing him one final grin as she pushed her chair back and stood. She needed time to think, to remember… to research. If Jess had been in for work that day she'd have asked her for help, but as it was she'd have to settle for someone who, while just as brilliant, would ask far more questions.

"Connor, if you've got a moment…"

Not five minutes after leaving Peter alone in the breakroom with his doughnuts Emily found herself standing in the HUB next to the smartest and nosiest man alive.

"Emily? Yeah, always got a moment for my favorite victorian turned monster killer." Emily could feel Connor's regret about what he was saying the moment the words left his mouth; she imagined he must feel that way a lot.

"I need you to do some researching for me. It's about an incursion from a few weeks ago."

"A creature? Was it that flying one? Because that was _really_ cool." His face lit up just talking about it.

"No, actually. It's about a person." This made Connor considerably less excited. "Her name's Dr. Isabelle Grayson. I need you to find out what you can about her husband."

"Anything specific?" he asked, turning to the computer and making a big show of cracking his knuckles.

"I suppose I'd like to know if she's always had one." Connor looked confused and took a break from his typing to look her in the eye.

"Emily, what are you playing at, mate?"

"Honestly, Connor? I don't know yet. It's probably nothing, but if it is you'll be the first one I tell."

Connor looked as though he meant to press it further, but instead he simply gritted his teeth and turned back to the screens.

 _It's nothing, I'm sure,_ she told herself, making her way to the Files Office to help Eric finish up the report. _I'm probably just remembering wrong. It's probably nothing._ Still, as she travelled through the winding corridors of the ARC, she had a nagging suspicion that it was most definitely not nothing.

* * *

Matt raised a finger to his ear gruffly, pushing the button to open the comm link and actively thinking about how bitter and childish he was being.

"Hunt, I've cleared all but the second floor and the basement. I'm headed to check them out now… unless your royal highness has another command for me." Matt was being a jerk, and he knew it. There was silence on the other end, then a crackling noise.

"Continue on as planned. Clear those two floors and then head up to the control room to meet Abby and I. Let us know if you run into any trouble." To his credit, Hunt put up with all Matt's pissing and moaning like a champ… which, unfortunately, only served to piss Matt off even more. He was just so damn _likeable._ He'd charmed Jess in ten minutes flat (though, if Matt was honest about it, Jess was willing to be charmed by just about anybody); he'd won over Connor talking about video games and _Star Trek;_ he'd even broken through Abby and Becker's shells by taking an interest in the menagerie and the weapons arsenal.

Maybe Jess and Connor were right… maybe he was just being a bitter child. He furrowed his brow at this thought as he hit the last step on the staircase and stepped off it onto the second floor of the museum. A sign above him read _"All creatures great and small…"_ with subheadings pointing towards African predators, American beasts, ancient wonders, etc… He chose to go right more on a whim than on a hunch.

On the other hand, he thought as he made his way between a display set full of stuffed lions, there was _something_ off about Hunt. He'd looked into his background on his own time and discovered that, while it checked out, there were definitely some holes. His entire employment history left a lot to be said and his references were vague at best. Still, he did seem to excel at dealing with creatures, so perhaps he _did_ have a background in -

 _Shit._ Matt's vision bounced around in his skull as he was thrown off his feet and into the arms of a mounted mountain gorilla. He clawed at the display for a moment before realizing what it was, and by the time he'd escaped the creatures stationary arms the velociraptor was nearly on top of him. He ducked out of the way and pushed the gorilla over onto the creature, which skidded a few paces before regaining its footing and charging Matt again.

He whipped the EMD up into his hands and the smashed the safety button, unloading seven shots into the creature before it finally went down in front of him. He breathed in and out slowly and took stock: nothing broken, just a little bruised and shaken up. Nothing a bottle of wine couldn't fix later.

"Hunt?" he said, placing his hand on the comm link. "We've got creatures. Velociraptor. I only see one but -"

"They're pack hunters," Hunt finished for him. Annoying, as per usual. "If there's one there's gonna be more."

"What do you wanna do?" Matt asked, limping slightly as he made his way towards a closet marked "supplies".

"We lock it down now. We can't risk any of those creatures getting out into the open. The security officer up here thinks the museum's completely evacuated, and that's gonna have to be good enough for me."

"Shouldn't we wait to finish the security sweep? Is Becker even done clearing a safe zone outside?"

"Once we lock it down we can open any doors individually from the control room with the code. We can get Becker back in; right now our concern is making sure those creatures don't get out," Hunt explained. There was some incoherent chattering on the other end as Hunt spoke to the security officer. "It's happening, Matt. Get back up here ASAP and we'll figure out a plan." The comm link went silent, leaving Matt alone in the hall of stuffed beasts.

"We'll just 'figure it out!'" Matt shouted to no one in particular. His voice echoed off the walls, slowly fading to silence once again. A moment later the alarms mounted on the ceiling began to ring, signalling that the lockdown procedure had just gone into effect. Matt grumbled on about Hunt's ineptitude as he made his way back to the stairs. He was on the third step when he heard someone shout behind him.

"Hello?" He froze on the steps, the plea for help reverberating around him for a moment. _Damnit, Hunt._

"Hello?" he asked, stepping back down the steps. He turned the other way this time, cautiously making his way through a room full of stuffed reptiles - of course, it _had_ to be stuffed reptiles - until he came upon a small intersection that branched off into several more exhibits. He picked one at random, trying to follow the voice.

"Please, help." Matt rounded the last corner and saw that at the end of the path a man was lying on the ground, blood spurting out of his leg, a little girl standing next to him helplessly crying. Just brilliant.

Matt ran the last fifty paces to the pair, sliding down onto his knees next to the man. He removed his over shirt and pressed it to the man's leg. Judging by the amount of blood on the floor, Matt had gotten there not a moment too soon.

"Hey, mister, stay with me here," he said, slapping the man in the face to keep him awake. Not the best form of bedside manner, but effective. "What's your name?"

The man's head spun around in awkward circles for a moment before his eyes finally settled on Matt. "Howie," he responded. Then he looked at his daughter. "That's Henrietta."

"Nice to meet you both. Listen, I'm gonna get you out of here, but you have to stay strong for me. Can you walk?" The man called Howie pushed himself up with his arms, then bent his injured leg, trying to apply pressure on it. He winced; definitely not a good sign.

"I can try." Suddenly panic flashed across the man's face. "My sister. Where's my sister?" _This just keeps getting better._

"Your sister was here as well? Anyone else?"

"No, only her."

"Alright. What's your sister's name?"

"Jessica. Jessica Parker."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's Notes:**_

 _Hey y'all, here's Chapter 3. First off, sorry it's a bit shorter than the last ones - it's just the way the divisions worked out, so rest assured they'll be their normal lengths following this. Anyways, as always, enjoy reading and drop me many, many comments!_

Chapter 3

"What the hell did you just say?"

Captain Becker was seated on the steps outside the Natural History Museum thinking of every curse word he'd ever known and waiting for Hunt, or Matt, or really anyone to come back on over the comms.

"I said that Jess is -" the last word was garbled, but Becker knew that Matt had meant to say "here". Jessica Parker was in the museum that had just been put under lockdown with him still outside, because their stupid ass new team leader had overreacted to one raptor attack. Now they were up shit creek and their strongest fighter was locked out.

"Hunt, get these damn doors open now!" Becker shouted into his comm, pounding on the door and jostling the handle violently back and forth. It didn't budge. "Hunt?" Freakin' classic. Comms weren't working, and Becker would bet any money it had to do with the damn security system. He twisted the dial slightly and listened as the wavelengths changed.

"Becker, is that you? I can't seem to raise the rest of the team." Connor's voice crackled in his ear, chipper yet confused.

"Yeah, it's me. Things have gone from bad to worse over here in a matter of ten minutes. Jess is trapped in the museum and for some reason comms are off line."

"Jess is _in_ the museum?" Connor shouted. Becker winced as his loud, annoying voice reverberated inside his ear.

"Don't deafen me, Connor. Just figure out how to reestablish contact with everyone inside and find out how to _get me in there."_

"OK, OK. Hang on a sec." Becker could hear Connor's fingers working at a hundred miles per hour, smashing keys here, taking a sip of soda there. Forty-five seconds later Connor's voice came back on: "You and I are still connected on comms, but everyone in the museum is offline for some reason. It seems like there's some sort of wireless interference from whatever security measures they just enacted."

"I had the same thought. Any way you can fix it before they're all raptor chow?" Becker asked, knowing that his annoyance with Connor was misplaced; it was Hunt and Matt he was mad at, and maybe even a little bit himself. He should have at least checked with Jess to see where she would be on her day off.

"I'm looking into it now. Presumably once they all realize Jess is in there they'll lift the lockdown to get her out and we can get you inside. But it's possible there's a way for me to hack the system, or there's an external server extension we can use. The curator might be the place to start."

"Text me his address," Becker said, cracking his knuckles. "You keep working on cracking the code and make sure no one _else_ gets put into unnecessary danger. I'm going to see if we can't convince the curator to help us out." He was already stepping into his car and jamming the key into the ignition.

"And if he won't help us?" Becker checked the EMD in his belt and cracked a slight smile.

"I'll just have to 'persuade' him."

* * *

"What did he say?"

Ryan Hunt was seated next to Abby and the security officer, Tyler, in the main control room of the museum. The large monitor in front of them was lit up with a floor plan of the museum, the locks highlighted red and a window was open in the top right hand corner asking what command Tyler would like to input next.

"I couldn't hear. Too much interference. Sounded like something about a civilian still being in the building, but I couldn't be sure," Abby replied, sharing a concerned look with Hunt.

"We can't lift the lockdown until we're sure there's a reason to. Have you been able to reach Becker?"

"Same deal. Too much interference on comms." Then, to Tyler Lupone: "Anything you can do to cut through whatever's in the way of our link?"

The boy thought for a moment. "Maybe. Let me try something. I think if we cut through the data relays and slow them down by a few cycles we can minimize interference without losing -" he stopped abruptly, his eyes trained on something behind them.

Hunt turned, slowly, taking in whatever it was that had shocked the younger man into silence. _Velociraptor. Just great._ Hunt barely had time to move out of the way as it leapt at him, tearing his shirt and nearly missing his flesh. It crashed forward through the room, taking down a computer display with its talons and smacking Abby to the ground with its great tail.

"EMD, now!" Abby shouted. Hunt righted himself and grabbed for it, noting that Abby's had been knocked across the room when the creature hit her. Finally his belt released and the gun flew up into his hand. He trained it on the raptor, but as he pulled the trigger it leapt again, barely avoiding the shot. It lunged forward through the cramped room, tackling Tyler out of his chair and onto the ground.

"Shit," Hunt shouted, lining up the next shot and blasting it off. He fired a few more for good measure and breathed a sigh of relief when the raptor fell down next to Tyler, unconscious. Abby rushed to the boy, taking his head in her arms and feeling for a pulse. Hunt waited a few tense moments before meeting her gaze, not daring to voice the question on his mind.

"He's alive… but he's not doing so well." She pulled a loose rag off of the nearby desk and began pressing it to the wound in his chest. Blood streamed from his head as well.

"We need to get him out of here," Hunt said simply, his voice not betraying the actual anger he felt at this poor boy's case. In three weeks he'd very nearly forgotten his purpose at the ARC. Tyler Lupone would serve as a reminder.

"We have to lift the lockdown."

"Then do it," Hunt said, sitting down at Tyler's desk and looking at the controls. "Talk me through it."

"I can't." Hunt flashed her an angry, curious look.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because," Abby said, the tone of her own voice quickly becoming as hostile as his own. " _He's_ the only one who knows it."

* * *

"Someone update me on the situation. Unless everyone's dead, in which case I don't want to know." James Lester had found that, in nearly twenty years of working in government, his best asset was not intelligence or physical prowess or his "connections"; it was surliness.

"Well, boss," Connor laughed, but it was his annoying "I'm about to tell you everything's gone wrong" laugh. Not Lester's favorite. "The team is trapped in the museum for some reason and communications are down and Becker's locked out, and also Jess is trapped in there with them."

 _There it is,_ Lester thought.

"Wait, Jess is there?" Great, more people. Emily and her new team leader, Eric or something or other, ran in and stood next to Connor at the HUB.

"Apparently her 'day off" has turned into a fight against dinosaurs."

"So same old, same old?" Eric asked, snickering and cracking a grin. Connor shook his head, typed madly.

"Great. Anything I can do besides report to the Minister that this 'first class organization' has managed to lose contact with half the team and possibly kill an employee on their one day off?"

Connor shook his head. Lester turned to walk away.

"Wait!" _Damnit. So close._ Emily ran up behind Lester, catching up to him just as he opened the door to his office. He attempted to ignore her, to shut her out and pretend there were no more problems, but she shouldered past him and stood, hands on her hips, waiting for him to listen.

"Yes, Miss Merchant?" he asked, thinking it was about damn time he had a drink.

"Lester, I think I've discovered something… strange going on," she said cryptically, looking at him not with anger or derision, but with genuine intent and concern. It was the kind of look that made him want to listen.

"What is it? Because if you haven't noticed, something _strange_ goes on here about three times a day." He rubbed his temples and took a seat behind his desk.

"There's something about the anomaly from last month. The flying creature that destroyed the power plant. I think… I think we might have changed something. Or… or I don't know."

"That might be a problem," Lester quipped, not fully grasping what she was driving at.

"Look," she said, taking a seat opposite him. _This better not be a "sit down" kind of conversation,_ he thought to himself. "This woman said something about her husband being dead, but when we went to do the follow up interview her husband was there. Alive."

"Did it occur to you that possibly you simply misheard the poor woman?"

Emily shook her head. "I thought that, but I know what I heard. I trust myself, and I think there's something about it that I'm not seeing."

"Well you of course don't have my permission to investigate a hunch without any proof, but permission has never seemed to stop you people before." Emily smiled faintly, a rarity for the woman. "Just do be careful, won't you?"

Her grin grew. "Aren't we always?"

* * *

Matt's head spun with the list of things he had left to do that day:

Drag Jess's dying brother and scared as shit little niece to safety without getting eaten by a raptor.

Find Jess, preferably alive, and get her the hell out of that museum.

Restore the comms and put the raptors back through the anomaly before anyone else gets hurt.

Punch Hunt in the freaking face.

He ruminated on all this as he pulled absentmindedly on Howie Parker's limp arms and listened faintly to the whimpering of his daughter. _Damn idiots should have left when the museum people said to,_ he thought, Howie's legs getting tangled in some foliage from one of the exhibits. On the other hand, it was hard to be mad; no one expects that their trip to the museum will end in a dinosaur attack… unless they work for the ARC.

Matt supposed that he was lucky, in a way, to find himself _still_ able to fight dinosaurs on a daily basis, when the odds of his survival over the past couple of years had been so low. He was banking on that same luck to keep him and his two charges safe until he could get them back to the control room.

"OK, one more flight of stairs and a hallway and we're there!" Matt said, doing his best to sound optimistic for the little girl. She simply sniffled a little and nodded, sitting down on the bottom step and waiting for Matt. He rolled his eyes and shifted Howie's position, raising him up the first few before setting him down in exhaustion - this had to be the most annoying thing this job had ever asked of him, and all the exertion was making his only recently healed broken leg _hurt._

"Matt?" _Thank. God._ Matt turned around and saw Abby at the top of the stairs, an EMD raised in front of her as she scanned the hallway.

"Abby, we've got company," he said simply, motioning for her to come down the stairs and give him some damn help. She did one final scan before descending the stairs and helping him pick up Howie. They dragged him to the top quickly, Matt collapsing in pain once they did - apparently his leg and rib injuries from their recent trip to the past weren't quite as healed as he'd hoped.

"I can carry him the rest of the way," Abby offered, shifting Howie's weight off of Matt.

"Why… what happened? What's wrong with comms and _why the hell are they still locked in here?"_ Matt asked, wheezing in pain.

"The lockdown jammed the comm signals and things have gotten… out of hand. Long story short, we _can't_ lift the lockdown… at least not for now. I came looking for you to see what had happened - against Hunt's orders, I'll add."

"So what's the play?" Matt asked, standing up and stealing a glance at the niece. She was fine, or at least she wasn't crying. Sometimes that was as close to fine as people got in these situations.

"There isn't one. We hole up in the control room and ride this thing out."

"Not without Jess."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Abby asked, the look on her face telegraphing that she thought he'd gone mad.

"Jess is here. That's her niece; that's her brother. Get them back, get them safe. I'll get Jess, and then we'll all get the hell out of here." With that Matt turned and ran back down the stairs, one hand clutching his EMD, the other his aching ribs.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Author's Notes:_**

 _Hey y'all. As always, welcome to the new chapter. Sorry it's been a bit since I posted! College is kicking my butt these days. But ANYWAYS, I hope you guys super enjoy this chapter and all that come next!_

 _Also, a brief warning: this story is a little bit shorter than the last one (not a whole lot, just more like 17,000 as opposed to 20,000. Like, I know you'll all be super upset, but I beg you to just forge on._

 _Finally, I'm just gonna plug one more time for you guys handing out those precious, precious reviews! Seriously it brightens my day so much every time I see one in my inbox. There's no better feeling!_

* * *

Chapter 4

"You know, I can't decide if I hope this guy gives me trouble or not."

Becker slammed his car door shut, slipping an EMD into one pocket and a conventional weapon into the other. He heard crackling on the other end of the line as Connor Temple formulated a response.

"Why is that?" Connor asked.

"If he's difficult, it means I get to beat _someone_ up today." He cracked a smile at this thought before making the trek from his parking spot on the street to the door of James Palmer, museum curator. He raised his hand, knuckles tensed to knock, but thought better of it; why waste the opportunity to make a dramatic entrance?

He gleefully smashed the door open with a well aimed kick, the wood splintering and caving in. The ARC would be paying for that, but it was well worth it if Becker got to break something. The soldier moved into the home swiftly, gun raised in front of him, his arms outstretched.

It took only a moment to find the curator - or, the man he assumed to be the curator - seated in the living room looking completely confused… and terrified.

"What…? Who, who are you? You have no right to just barge into my home and -"

"Captain Becker, Anomaly Research Center. And that _does_ give me the right," Becker asserted, stomping forward to face the man. He spoke again, not missing a beat. "Now stand up so I can search you." The man didn't move. At least this meant Becker could hit him.

"That might be difficult…" the man said. Without another word he whipped the blanket off his lap, revealing the wheelchair underneath. Well… perhaps hitting would not be the most responsible choice after all.

"I'm… I'm very sorry, sir. I wasn't aware of…" _Damn, now I sound like I'm fourteen._

"Yes, yes, you're very sorry about my condition. It's fine. Though I will require you to pick up my door for me when you leave here." James Palmer, museum curator and paraplegic, motioned towards the door that Becker had ripped from the wall. Even more awkward. "Now," Palmer began, wheeling forward. "What is it I can help you with?"

Becker followed after him, befuddled and momentarily forgetting what it was he'd shown up there for in the first place.

"I… I need to know how to lift the lockdown on the museum. Our organization was sent to assist, but the situation seems to have gotten out of control and we've lost contact with our people inside."

"Not very professional of you lot, now is it?" Palmer cracked a smile and motioned for Becker to take a seat at the table opposite him. Becker didn't oblige.

"You try running an organization that keeps the planet safe from prehistoric creatures and see how well you do."

"Fair enough. But I'm afraid there's no way to lift the lockdown from out here. It's designed so that the only way to trigger it or take it offline is from the control room inside the museum."

"I was afraid he'd say that," Connor chimed in over Comms. Becker had almost forgotten he was listening in his head; guess that's what Connor being quiet for more than two minutes felt like. "Ask why his man inside wouldn't lift the lockdown briefly to get a civilian out."

"Don't tell me what to do," Becker said, annoyed. Palmer cocked an eyebrow at him, probably thinking he was crazy. Becker shook his head before addressing the chair-ridden man. "Is there any reason your man in the museum wouldn't lift the lockdown briefly to get a civilian out?" Palmer mulled it over for a moment.

"No. The security procedure is to only institute the lockdown once all non-military or museum personnel are evacuated. And if they discovered someone hadn't made it out they would have unlocked the front entrance to let them out. Does there seem to be a problem with the system?"

"Um…" Becker stammered, unsure of how much to tell the man. _What the hell, I'm doing this for Jess._ "One of our colleagues who we'd all like to see very much _not_ get eaten is trapped in there with her family and your security staff isn't letting her out for some reason. Now either you start giving me some straight answers or I start breaking knee caps or… some other body part that you still have feeling in." Palmer smiled.

"Look, the only reason Lupone, my chief of security, wouldn't lift the lockdown is if he _couldn't_ lift the lockdown. If your friend is trapped in there and Lupone isn't releasing him, it's got to be either because it isn't safe to or… or something's happened to him."

"Another thing I was afraid he'd say." Connor in his head again.

"OK, Mr. Palmer, do you at least have a way of communicating with the people inside the museum? The security procedures seem to have scrambled all our signals, and I'd really love it if this visit didn't turn out to be _completely_ useless."

"Yes, actually. I have a hardline into the museum for emergencies. Even with the scrambled signals it should still be functioning. It places a call directly to the security office."

Finally, something useful out of the old man. He wheeled over to his kitchen counter, motioning to a phone mounted on the wall above it.

"Becker, use that phone to call me at the ARC. I'll patch into the signal and reverse the call so I can talk directly to Abby. If this Lupone guy is unable to lift the lockdown, there's a chance I can talk her through it."

"Fine, fine. Just get them out of there, Connor."

"Oi, Mate, have I ever let you down before?"

"Connor, do you really want me to answer that?" Becker asked, dialing the phone. It started to ring.

"Right, err… Whatever. I'm getting a call, so I'll have to put you on hold."

"You're such a nerd."

* * *

 _Oh my God, I'm out of shape!_

It was odd, Jess thought, that at a job like hers she hadn't invested more time into building up enough muscle to run for her life… it now seemed a grave oversight that she hadn't seen this coming at some point.

She rounded what felt like the hundredth corner in that labyrinthine museum, dodging between cave man exhibits and nearly dying of heart failure when she ran into the "raptor room"; it had taken her a few intensely stressful moments to realize that there, at least, they were all stuffed.

The very much not stuffed raptor that had been chasing her had slammed into a wall a few rooms back, it's metal talons sliding across the marble floor and - for once - giving her a bit of an advantage. Since then she hadn't looked back, the silence behind her the only indication that it hadn't caught up with her. Just like her heels, the clicking of those talons was a dead giveaway.

Now, however, Jess was faced with a new set of problems: she was exhausted, and she was lost (and she was being pursued by the fiercest killers to ever walk the planet, but somehow that seemed a tertiary problem).

"OK Jess, you're fine, you just have to think this through. What would a field agent do? Connor is you today, so you just have to be Connor," she said aloud, though a moment later she acknowledged that Connor probably wouldn't be broadcasting his location to the creatures by talking to himself.

She looked around the room for options: there were five molded velociraptors, a pair of skeletons, several mounted cave drawings, an air vent, and half a dozen informational plaques. At the very least she could pull apart one of the skeletons and use one of the bigger bones for a weapon.

It took her only a moment to pry the femur from the larger of the two, rationalizing that it was alright to destroy priceless artifacts if it could potentially save her life. After all, she was no field agent; her training was in hacking networks, not hacking limbs.

 _OK, step two: find somewhere safe to ride this mess out._ She'd tested one supply closet during her initial flight and had found it locked - probably, she guessed, this advanced lockdown security system from hell secured _every_ door in hopes of isolating the creatures. In reality, all it was doing was isolating her from safety.

Speaking of which, the tell tale clicking of talons was beginning to register in her ears. _Damnit. Damnit damnit damnit. And damn my niece for dragging me here in the first place._

"You'd have been far better of just going into work today." Jess whirled around at the sound of a man's voice, bumping straight into Matt… or, at least, someone who looked like Matt, but was maybe fourteen-years-old.

"Matt?" she asked, confused. The boy gave her a cocky smile.

"More or less, but not as you know me. There's no time to explain if you wanna survive the next few hours, so let's just say it _is_ me, and you _can_ trust me. Now climb in that air duct and don't climb out until the other me finds you."

"Other you? What the hell are you talking about? And why do you look like you're in primary school?"

"Like I said, no time. Now go and wait until I show up." He shoved her roughly towards the air vent, tearing the cover off and pushing her inside. Past the small entrance the shaft grew larger… it wasn't comfortable per se, but preferable to sitting in a raptor's jaws. "And one more thing," weird Matt said, propping the vent cover up. "When you see me I won't know about any of this, so be patient and explain. And one more thing - tell me to count the shadows. It'll save both our lives."

With that the young Matt disappeared, his voice replaced with the sound of the raptor's talons scraping across the tile. Jess held her breath, though rationally she knew she was as safe as she could be - she'd barely fit into the vent, and she was a great deal smaller than a raptor. Now there was only one thing to do: wait.

* * *

Ryan Hunt had known many a bad day at work in his time, but this one by far took the cake. As he paced the floor of the control room, looking between the scared little girl, the two injured men in the corner that Abby was caring for, and the apparently malicious computer that had trapped them all there, he found himself beginning to wonder if doing all this work for the ARC was worth it. Sure, he was drawing a nice salary for his work ingratiating himself with the losers, but being eaten by raptors was definitely _not_ in the job description.

"So let me get this straight," he said to Abby, kneeling down next to her and giving her a break from applying pressure to the wounds. "Jess is trapped somewhere in the museum being pursued by an unknown number of raptors, we haven't found the anomaly, we have two severely injured civilians and a child to take care of, our communications network is completely useless, and all of us are trapped in here with basically no hope of escape."

"That about sums it up," Abby said, smiling despite herself. "If you can believe it, this isn't even the worst day I've had working here."

"You'll forgive me if I don't find that fact all that comforting." Abby shrugged, taking Tyler's pulse and then Howie's. "How are they?" Hunt asked, his voice hushed so as not to scare the girl.

"Not good. If we can't get them out of here soon there's going to be nothing to be done for them," she whispered back. They shared a nervous glance.

"What about Jess? If Matt can get her back here in one piece do you think she can crack the computer and lift the lockdown?"

"Its possible. I've found there's little Jess _can't_ do if given the time."

"And what if they don't have the time?" Hunt asked, looking at the two dying men on the floor. Abby opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by the sound of a phone ringing.

A phone ringing?

Abby and Hunt stared at each other for a moment, stunned. "Find it. Now".

Abby Maitland sprung up from her crouching position, waving a hand for Hunt to be quiet. It rang again, and she ran to one of the cupboards and pulled it open. Nothing.

It rang again.

Looking panicked, Abby crouched down again and pulled open a set of drawers, madly pulling things out and shoving them to the ground. She slammed them shut and turned to the cupboard underneath the main computer. It rang again.

Hunt breathed a sigh of relief as Abby pulled open the last door and found the phone. She grabbed for it, madly bringing it to her ear.

"Hello?" Hunt watched as Abby's face registered at first confusion, then relief, then confusion again.

"Abby, what is it? _Who_ is it?"

"It's Connor."

"Connor? How?"

"If you'll shut up a minute I might be able to find out." Abby shook her head and returned to her call with Connor. "How are you calling me? Can you get us out of here?" A few moments of chatter, then: "Great, sounds like you're about all caught up. Matt's gone to find Jess and we've got two injured civilians. Now are you gonna get us out of here or are we going to have to wait to be carried out in body bags?" she shouted angrily.

"What's he saying?" Hunt asked, sliding up next to Abby so he could hear Connor's voice.

"Look, Abs, it's a closed system; there's literally no way for me to hack it," he heard Connor say through the phone.

"Well then what do you suggest we do?" Abby asked, annoyed.

"Look, I can talk you through the hack and we can get you out of there." Abby looked stricken, her face turning a sickly shade of green.

"Connor, you know me and computers. You want me to take down a grown triceratops, no problem. But I can't hack this thing. We'll just have to wait for Jess to get back up here."

"Abs, there's no time. I know you can do this. You got us through a year in the cretaceous; you're not going to let a computer beat you now are you?" Connor asked. Hunt had to hand it to him; he certainly knew how to talk up his woman. Abby turned it over in her head for a moment before sitting down in front of the controls.

"OK, I'll try. And next time Jess takes a day off _I_ get to be the one staying at the ARC."


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Notes:_

 _Here's Chapter 5, finally. Not gonna lie, I'm totally aware it's been literally 100 years since I posted to this story, and for that I apologize, but at long last I'm back at it and I'm once again inspired to keep working on the stories. I'm finishing up writing Episode 3 right now so you'll get at least one more out of me! Anyways, enjoy this penultimate chapter and check back soon to see if they make it out of this museum alive._

* * *

Matt couldn't explain it, but he felt _good._ Yes, his ribs and leg were killing him and he was limping through a museum filled with raptors that were trying to do nothing but rip him apart, but somehow that just felt _right._ Stalking between stuffed wooly mammoths and mounted cave men, Matt Anderson felt more in his element than he had in a long time.

As he cleared the first of the exhibit rooms on the second floor he turned over everything he knew about this incursion in his head, hoping to get a handle on it: first, the only team members in the museum with him were Abby, Hunt, and (kind of) Jess. They had two civilians in critical condition that needed to be gotten out, and a state of the art security system had them trapped inside for the foreseeable future. An unknown number of raptors were loose in the museum and were, most likely, stalking him at that very moment.

The good thing, he supposed, was that he'd narrowed down where the anomaly site must be: the basement. He'd cleared all but the second floor before finding Howie and his daughter and now, searching for Jess _on_ the second floor, he knew it wasn't there. Of course, all the anomaly locking equipment was in the utility vehicle outside which they couldn't get to… but still: progress.

He rounded the corner into the "raptor room" and scanned it from top to bottom, his eyes settling onto a small metal panel that was hanging lamely off the wall. If Jess was smart, and to get hired by the ARC you had to be, she'd have hidden in there where the raptors couldn't reach her and sat tight. Taking one final look around he ran to the grate and pulled it off, looking inside.

"Jess?" he whispered, unclipping his flashlight from his belt and shining it down the tube. Between all the metal he could just make out the floral pattern of a woman's skirt. Bingo.

"Matt? Which one are you?" she asked, rather confusingly. Maybe, he thought, she'd suffered a nervous breakdown from the stress of being hunted on her day off. Though, in fairness, given her job description that should be something she'd be expecting on a daily basis.

"Jess, it's the only me there is," he said, shimmying into the tube, his hips barely fitting. Thankfully once he got a bit further in he found that the shaft got considerably larger. He crawled through and moved to a sort of sitting position opposite Jess.

"Thank God!" she said, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him tighter than he'd have thought her capable. He awkwardly patted her on the back with his EMD; she seemed not to notice.

"Jess," he said once she'd finally broken the embrace. "What the hell happened? Why are you here? Why didn't you leave the museum?" She grimaced.

"Look, it's areally long story and right now I'm teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown, so can you just get me out of here and we'll sort all that out later?" Matt shrugged, but smiled despite himself; only at the ARC can the office computer nerd still survive a raptor attack in the field.

"Yeah, yeah, let's get you out of here. Though if we're honest we're running short on exits out of this museum at the moment…"

"You mean we're trapped in here?" Jess asked, though it sounded to Matt as though she'd figured this out a long while ago. Why _else_ would she be in an air vent and not waiting on the steps outside.

"More or less. But I'm told there's absolutely no plan for escape, so that's comforting." Jess smiled a bit at this, despite how grim it truly was.

"Before we crawl out of this air duct, I need to ask you something," Jess said, sounding more serious all of a sudden. Matt nodded, urging her to go on. "Why did a preteen version of you show up fifteen minutes ago, save me from a raptor, and then disappear without a trace?"

Matt's mind reeled at this, though a small part of him wasn't all that surprised. The age difference was a twist, but the pattern was, so far, holding true: one anomaly, on weird-ass version of himself popping up to offer some cryptic warnings, help out, and then disappear.

"I've a sense this isn't all that surprising to you?" Jess asked after his silence stretched from "shocked" to "uncomfortably long". Matt shook his head, clearing it, before speaking.

"It's not exactly new, but… but it's something I'll be telling you about if and when we get out of the museum from hell."

"Fair enough," Jess said, accepting this answer for now. "Can we get out of here?" Matt turned, shining his flashlight towards the entrance to the air duct that he'd just come through.

"It's a straight shot from here to the control room where Abby and Hunt are. Two rooms, a flight of stairs, and a hallway. Can you make it?" he asked, crawling towards the opening.

"I've made it this far; what's one more mad dash to safety?" Jess asked, crawling behind him. She stopped suddenly, grabbing Matt's ankle. "There's one more thing the weird-you said. He told me to tell you to 'count the shadows'. He said it would save both of our lives."

Fan. Freakin'. Tastic. He'd just been thinking that this particular double had forgotten to include an annoyingly vague clue in his visit, and now here it was.

"Any idea what he might have meant by that?" Matt asked.

"The day I've had… first I escape a raptor attack and now you want me to solve some word puzzle?" she joked, though Matt could tell she was just the slightest bit annoyed with him for having the nerve to be annoyed with her.

"Whatever. We'll figure it out later," he resolved, swinging his flashlight towards the opening and crawling forward. Jess grabbed his ankle once more.

"I know we said we were waiting, but I think I just figured it out."

"By all means, after you," he snarked. Jess pointed a finger out in front of her, towards the "raptor room" that they were about to enter.

"There are five raptor statues in that room - I counted before I climbed in here. But -"

"There are shadows for six raptors," Matt finished, amazed. "Which means that the second we climb out of here the one that's not like the others is going to be having us for lunch."

"So what's our play?" Jess asked. In answer, Matt pulled out his EMD and watched. For a moment the room outside the vent was still, and then there was a slight movement. One of the six shadows moved slightly, it's head bobbing up and down, and that was all Matt needed. He squeezed the trigger, four shots exiting the chamber before the creature went down.

"As annoying as these doppelgangers are, they've saved my ass more times than I care to admit," Matt quipped, climbing out of the air duct and helping Jess out a second later.

"Not the worst guys to have around," Jess pondered, dusting off her skirt with her hands. "Now, back to the control room where we can sort this mess out?" she asked hopefully. Matt looked from the raptor to her, and then back again. Her face deflated, realizing what was coming.

"Not quite. First we've got a delivery to make."

* * *

"I can't believe you're making me do this." Jess Parker had been put through the ringer on her supposed "day off": annoyed by her niece, attacked by velociraptors, shoved into air vents by clones, and now forced to lug a _heavy_ prehistoric creature down several flights of stairs to the basement of some godforsaken museum because her team leader was butt hurt about being demoted and wanted to prove he could do something valuable.

"Look, we need to figure out how to close this thing before any more of these creatures can get through. We don't know how long this lockdown is going to last and we can't risk a raptor infestation. It's not great publicity."

"But aren't there already raptors out of the anomaly?"

"Only two. One in the control room and another one that I stunned in the gorrilla room. We'll put this one back, lock the anomaly, lift the lockdown, and then once we've got a full crew in here we'll unlock it only long enough to put those other two back through."

"You make it sound so simple. But if you haven't noticed we don't have any equipment in here; how do you plan to lock this thing?" Jess asked, dropping her half of the unconscious raptor and placing her hands on her hips. Even in the dim lighting of the basement Matt could make out the derisive look on her face.

"That's why I brought you. If anyone can MacGyver a locking device it's you." Matt's blatant attempts at flattery did _not_ go unnoticed, but rather than press the issue, Jess got to work.

"If we're honest, the device isn't all that complicated. The model we have works the best because it passes a current directly from the device to the anomaly at the same frequency, which keeps it locked until we decide to undo it, but really all it'll take is a radio and a conduit." Jess looked around beside her and heard Matt speak up a moment later.

"I can help you with the radio part," he said, handing her what looked to be a World War II era clock radio. She looked at it, at first vaguely unsure of what to do; she was used to more digital than analogue tech, but she'd have to make due.

"Great. Um, I can work with this." She passed the radio to Matt and began digging through some boxes as she continued to speak. "Use the knobs to adjust the frequency. You'll hear a whirring noise - it's the interference from the anomaly. Figure out what channel it's the loudest on and then tell me." Behind her, Jess heard the radio buzz to life and modulate as Matt fudged the frequencies.

Meanwhile, Jess had finally found what she'd been searching for: the power cables that ran through the basement. "Matt, do you have a knife?" she asked, bending down. He huffed and passed it to her, her dainty fingers pulling the blade up. She sliced through the plastic case on the cable, careful not to cut the wire, and pulled it apart, revealing the inner mechanisms.

"I've got the frequency if you're ready," Matt said. Then, almost as if it was an afterthought: "And I'm hoping you'll be ready soon, since our lethal friend here looks to be waking up."

"Put him back through," Jess said, too concentrated to be afraid. She could feel herself slipping into what she liked to call her "zone"; she was right at home slicing up power cables and fidgeting with ancient radios. It just seemed a shame that it was Abby in the control room while she was in the field dealing with the creatures. _At least it's good practice,_ she thought to herself as she found the wire she wanted.

Matt heaved the creature through the anomaly, sticking his face in just far enough to get an eye for the landscape. He didn't look to reassured.

"Anytime you're ready here," he said nervously; annoyingly. Jess was well aware that at any given moment another horde of raptors could come pouring through the anomaly. It was the fact that kept her fingers quivering as she worked the cables.

"OK, I'm ready," she said, producing the cables and holding them out in front of her. "What's the frequency you've got?" Matt told it to her and Jess tossed it over in her mind, working the calculations.

"You good, Jess?" She was silent.

"Yeah, I'm good. I'd just better not get electrocuted; shame to go out that way after the day I've had." Without another word she pressed the loose ends of the cable together, testing the spark. Just as she'd planned. Matt watched in awe as she pushed the cables forward, sparks flying off the ends as they hit the magnetic field surrounding the anomaly and began disrupting it. In the distance they heard a raptor's call. A few more moments and it wouldn't matter, however.

Just as she was beginning to lose faith in herself the shards of the anomaly began to spin faster, waving in front of her face and slowly imploding. With a final burst of energy the power lines in her hands went limp and the anomaly slammed closed, the lights above their heads exploding with the force of the surge. For a long moment Matt and Jess just sat, the only light visible the small rays cast by the now locked anomaly.

Finally Jess spoke, and it was the question that seemed to be on both of their minds: "Now that that's done, can we get _the hell_ out of here?"

* * *

Six floors above Jess and Matt, Abby Maitland was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"Connor, I _can't,"_ she shouted into the phone, pounding it on the desk in front of her for emphasis. She'd already been at it a half an hour and so far none of her husband-to-be's instructions had gotten her off the damn home screen. Infuriatingly, the only thing she could get the freaking machine to say was "user error detected, please try again."

"Abby, you can do this. Remember two weeks ago when I couldn't get the lid off that jam jar and I called you and you told me you wouldn't be home for an hour so if I wanted a sandwich I was gonna have to get the bloody thing off myself? This security system is your jam jar."

"Yeah, Connor, got that. Except that if you can't get the lid off a jam jar the jam jar doesn't trap you inside it and feed you to dinosaurs!" she retorted. Abby listened as Connor took a deep breath in and out, no doubt preparing himself mentally to deal with her increasing craziness.

"Look, Abs, if we're honest you're all dinosaur food if you can't figure this out - and I was really hoping we could get married before this job killed one of us." _Yeah, me too,_ she thought, herself taking a deep breath. _Damnit, Connor. You always know just what to say._

"OK, one more time now. Talk me through this." She cracked her knuckles and listened to the static buzz as Connor prepared to speak.

"Tell me what you see on screen?"

"Same bloody thing I've seen every time, Connor. Screen says 'lockdown procedure in effect. Please enter password to access system'."

Silence. Then, after a beat: "This time, don't worry about finding a backdoor. The museum's old, so if we're lucky this system is built on the framework of an older one. Like when I tripped that lockdown at the ARC a few weeks after we got back from the cretaceous."

"Got it, things are old and you're an oaf, Connor," she said, cracking a smile. Connor let out an indignant huff before continuing.

"Type in 'help' where you enter the password and hold 'shift' before you press 'accept'." Abby did as she was instructed, breathing a sigh of relief when the computer finally, _finally_ took her somewhere new. "What do you see now?"

"It's asking me which server I want to access. There's like a hundred different options listed here." There was a moment of silence; either Connor was thinking or he'd given up on her.

"Alright, do a search at the top for 'security mainframe, 2001." Abby typed it in, and the list reformatted, displaying only a single entry.

"Why'd I do that, Connor?"

"Like I said, we want to access an older version of the system so it's not quite so tight. This'll give you some room to move around, and once you're into operations you can start manually shutting off the systems."

"So we're not hacking the computer, we're hacking the museum?" she asked, clicking the new entry. The screen lit up blue and for a terrifying moment Abby thought she'd ruined the whole thing. Finally a new screen appeared displaying a museum schematic and several dozen lines of code. It was gibberish to Abby, but at least they were getting somewhere.

"More or less. Now you should be on a page with a schematic of the museum."

"Yup. Everything's highlighted in red and - _shit!"_ Abby's chair lurched beneath her as the tail of the unconscious velociraptor twitched rapidly. She reached for her EMD at her hip and found it was empty. Damn.

"I'm out too," Hunt said, piping up for the first time since Connor had gotten on the line. He was across the room, one hand pressing the wound on Tyler and the other shielding Jess' niece from the creature. She put the phone down and addressed him.

"It's still groggy - we've probably got five minutes before that thing wakes up for good."

"Abby, you've gotten finish up with Connor. If you can beat the system we can lock the raptor up in one of the supply closets until we can get another tranquilizer."

"I know," Abby said, steeling her gaze and looking back to the computer screen. She picked up the phone. "Hunt, get that thing out of the room and take it to the closet down the hall. It's a chemical room so the door's made of metal. Should hold it. Connor, you've got five minutes to get me through this or we'll be saying our vows over the phone as I'm eaten alive."

"No pressure then," Connor laughed. Behind her, Hunt was dragging the waking creature out of the room. "OK, click the schematic and it should take you to a listing of all the museum systems - kind of like that scene in _Jurassic Park."_

"Connor, focus."

"Right, sorry Abs. It's just a really great scene."

 _"Connor."_

"OK, the listing should go by floor and then room number. Click the security room."

"Don't I want the chemical's closet so we can lock up the creature?"

"Abs, trust me on this. If you can lift the lockdown on the security room you'll fool the computer into thinking the _whole_ lockdown is over. It'll release the doors and from there you can use the computer to lock them individually." _Three minutes._

"Got it," she said, clicking the security room. Lines of code began filling the screen. Abby _hated_ lines of code. "Connor, what now?"

"Nearly there." From down the hall, Abby could hear Hunt shouting that the creature was waking up - that it was trying to bite him. "Abs, just listen. You've almost done it. In the fifth line of code there's a protocol for the lockdown. Select that portion and type in 'lockdown drill - successful." Abby did it, Connor's voice in one ear, Hunt's shouts in the other.

Soon, however, Abby heard a third noise: the sirens mounted in the ceiling. A prerecorded message came on over the speakers. _"Lockdown procedure deactivated. All museum systems functioning at 100%"_

"Connor, you did it! I could kiss you."

"Hey, save it for the wedding, sweetie. See, now, what you did was really rather simple. All you had to do was fool the computer into thinking that the lockdown had been a drill the whole time. Those drills are timed, so once it realized that the time had come and gone it lifted the lockdown and -" at that point Abby dropped the phone, rushing out of the room to where Hunt was desperately calling for her.

"You did it," he said, throwing all his weight against the heavy metal door to keep it shut. Evidently he'd gotten the creature inside just before it had fully regained consciousness. Abby rammed herself against it, the extra force enough to slide the latch into place.

"Yeah, I did. You know, in a pinch I'm pretty handy with those computers. Maybe Connor could learn a thing or two from _me_ about them. Now, I'll just reactivate the door locks for this room and we'll wait for Becker to clean this -" Abby stopped abruptly as Hunt jammed his elbow down on the lock, the handle falling to the floor in a twisted heap of metal.

"My way was faster," Hunt said.

"Yeah, but now the ARC's gotta pay to fix that door handle."


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Notes:_

 _Honestly IDK if anyone is still even reading this story/has any interest at all in reading this story, but I'm back at it with most of episode 3 written and I at least am enjoying it, so I figured I'd keep posting it for the handful of y'all who might still enjoy it! As always, I love comments and want to hear what you guys are thinking! Stay tuned for episode 3 to pop up real soon._

* * *

"So, to recap: you lot managed to get yourselves trapped inside the museum for the better part of the day with two injured civilians, a child, and an ARC agent who's never been trained for field work?"

Hunt massaged his temples as he listened to James Lester "congratulate" the team. _Berate is more like it,_ Hunt thought. "Look, James," he said, now using the name for the sole purpose of annoying his boss. "I know it looks like this op was a disaster, but really it couldn't have gone better: Jess and Matt closed the anomaly and kept any more creatures from getting through and Abby was able to beat the security system in time to get those men out." Hunt's gaze drifted across the parking lot to the ambulance that was currently departing carrying Howie Parker, his daughter, and security chief Tyler Lupone.

Lester huffed a sigh, nodding with a wry smile. "I suppose in the grand scheme of things the ARC has had worse days… perhaps none that I can think of at the moment, but… probably." With that Lester turned on his heel and marched back to his car, no doubt to down a glass of whiskey before heading home for the evening to down several _more_ glasses of whiskey.

Hunt drifted across the lot, the vacant museum illuminated behind him. He dodged an auxiliary crew as they rushed up the steps with an official locking device, no doubt on their way to return the last two raptors to their time and lock the thing for good. _Funny,_ he thought, _those glowing orbs spin up and cause a world of trouble, then disappear like they were never even there._

Becker's SUV was parked a few slots down, the trunk open so Matt and Jess could sit and watch as the museum cleanup proceeded. Much as it pained him, Hunt supposed that since it was his _mission_ to become their friends, he'd better go make sure they were alright.

"You two did well today," Hunt said awkwardly, leaning against the car's black metal frame. Blue and red lights danced across their faces as they shared a look.

"Thanks. All in all not too bad for my first field assignment," Jess joked, though the pain looked on her face as she inhaled and exhaled betrayed the discomfort she was truly feeling.

"Yeah. You and Connor should switch more often," Hunt said. God, talking to these people was cheesy. His life was like some whacked out mashup of _Little House on the Prairie_ and _Jurassic Park._

He exchanged a quick nod with Matt, which was about as close to a successful interaction as he'd gotten with the other man. He paced off, leaving the two alone, and returned to his own car to fill out an incident report… or, rather, _two_ incident reports. Within the half hour Hunt's recollections of the evening were memorialized in paper and ink. He passed the first of the copies to one of the ARC's filing staff to be taken back to the HUB for processing. The second copy he slipped into an envelope to be mailed later, away from the prying eyes of his coworkers.

* * *

Becker was the last to arrive at the bar that night.

An hour after leaving the ARC and filing his incident report he'd gotten a text from Matt on his phone urging him to show up at the group's local haunt. He said the entire Core Team would be there; in the back of his mind, Becker wondered if Matt was including Hunt in that group.

This question was answered for him when he wandered in around 8 p.m. and saw Jess, Connor, Abby, Emily, and Matt sitting in one of the booths in the back drinking beer and looking way too conspicuous for their own good. Connor was the first to spot him and waved him over good naturedly. Poor boy never could hold his alcohol.

Becker slid in next to Jess, half wondering if it was fate or if the rest of them had planned for it… and also half hoping that _Jess_ had planned for it. But that thought in itself was too scary for him after the day he'd had.

"So now that we're all here can you tell us why you called this super secret club meeting?" Abby asked, finishing off what appeared to be her second beer of the night. She seemed now for the first time to register Becker and slid him one of the full bottles near her. Becker opened it, but kept his eyes trained on Matt as the other man looked around nervously.

"Look, something's been happening since Convergence… something I'd hoped would go away or turn out to be a hallucination, but it's… it's not. It's real, and in some ways it scares me more than Philip Burton ever did."

"What is it, mate?" Connor asked, already enthralled. Becker wondered if reality was actually just like one big movie to the ARC's resident tech genius.

"It's me." _What an annoyingly cryptic thing to say,_ Becker thought, watching the confusion register on the faces of his teammates.

"Abby and Jess have seen it and I told Emily about it after it happened the first time, but the rest of you deserve to know."

"The creepy young doppelganger," Jess lulled, more to herself than to the group. Becker shared a look with Connor as if to ask _why were we left out?"_

"The man I saw when the plane crashed through the anomaly," Abby added, staring at Matt strangely, almost as if to see if he too might be something other than real.

"And there was a third time, immediately after Convergence. Right before we left for King's Cross station."

"When you left your phone and went back for it," Emily explained. Matt nodded, disconcerted.

"Versions of me keep popping up each time there's an anomaly. They help out, leave a warning, and then disappear without a trace and -"

"Why is Hunt not here for this?" Becker cut in, asking the question he knew to be on everyone's mind. "He's team leader now, and whether or not you like him you _do_ owe it to him to say if there's something that could be interfering with our ability to handle incursions - like evil clones." Matt looked hurt. Typical.

"I don't trust Hunt as far as I can throw him, and until I do this stays between us… between the people I know I can trust."

"And what happens when Hunt sees one of the creepy clones?" Jess asked, concerned. Becker could tell Matt was beginning to feel ganged up on.

"We figure that out if and when it comes to it. Look, I just needed you guys to know because… well, I don't know why. It just seemed right. You can do what you will now that you know, but for tonight I'd like to enjoy some drinks with my friends - after all, work was hell."

There was silence for a moment, until finally Connor laughed, "Oi, I'll drink to that."

* * *

It took a team from the ARC several hours to repair the damage that captain Becker had done to James Palmer's house. When all was said and done he'd gotten a brand new front door out of the whole debacle, so it wasn't _all_ bad… but on the other hand, his home had been invaded by a soldier and his museum had come under attack from prehistoric creatures. _You take the good with the bad, I suppose,_ he thought, wheeling towards his bedroom.

The museum's investors had insisted he appear on the news as soon as possible to manage the PR firestorm that was about to descend on the museum… after all, velociraptors don't nearly kill your head of security without an accompanying drop in ticket sales. As such, Palmer was eyeing the clock nervously as he prepared for his 9 p.m. interview.

It occurred to him that everything just took _so much longer_ since the accident. Where picking out a nice suit and walking the couple of blocks to the news station might have taken him twenty-five minutes a year ago, it now took almost an hour and a half. He'd tried to take the accident in stride, but there was little he wouldn't do to have his legs back.

As he reached into his deep closet to pick out a blue pinstripe suit - his favorite - he heard a knock on the door. "It's open!" he shouted through the house, not eager to wheel all the way back to the entrance hallway when the guest could just as easily welcome himself in. God knew it had been done once that day already.

"Mr. Palmer?" a man's voice called through the rooms. James unhooked the suit and brought it down onto his lap, unbuttoning his current shirt in preparation for the new outfit.

"In the bedroom. Just to your left," he called, slipping the white dress shirt on and turning his attention to his tie. Stained, off course. He'd have to find another one.

A moment later a young man, no older than twenty five, wandered into his room sporting a stylish haircut and the type of casual business ensemble young men had taken to wearing. Not nearly formal enough for Palmer's tastes, but the youth had a funny way of ignoring the opinions of the older generation.

"What can I help you with?" Palmer asked, pulling the blazer on over his shirt and testing the fit. Just as comfortable as he'd remembered.

"Actually, it's more what I think I could help _you_ with." Palmer paused, looking into the man's eyes for the first time. He had the look of someone who was used to holding all the cards… who was _comfortable_ holding all the cards.

"And what do you mean by that?" Palmer questioned.

"My names Trevor Grayson, and I represent a business that specializes in fixing… unique problems."

"So you're some kind of PR person? Look, the museum's got enough lawyers and public relations gurus to fill a super tanker. We're going to come out of this mess looking just fine without the help of some fancy young hotshot." Palmer turned his attention back to dressing and checked his watch nervously. At this rate he'd be making it there with only seconds to spare.

The young man just laughed. "No, not that kind of problem solving. We don't fix PR problems, we fix personal ones. We like to get to the issues before they even have a chance to begin." Palmer paused, annoyed yet intrigued.

"Alright, you've got me hooked. What kind of service are you offering here?"

"Well, I'm sure it's one you'll find hard to believe at first. Let's just say, for the right price _anything_ is possible."

"Oh yeah? Well I've got an army of doctors who'd disagree with you on that one." Palmer motioned to his unmoving legs, which more than several physicians had told him were beyond repair.

"You'll soon see that's exactly the kind of thing we're in the business of fixing. If you'll give me just ten more minutes of your time, I can assure you by this hour tomorrow it'll be like that accident never even happened."

* * *

"Hey, Becker, wait up." Jessica Parker had to jog a few paces to catch up to the ARC's chief weapons expert, her heels clicking rapidly across the floor of the bar. Finally she reached him, placing a hand on his shoulder to get him to stop. He turned back to her, his face ashen and clearly disturbed.

The team had spent a few hours more drinking after Matt's "announcement", trickling out one by one until only Matt, Becker, and Jess remained. Becker had seemed to be having a grand time, but his sudden change of mood and departure had worried Jess. She'd decided to go after him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, guiding him to two empty stools at the counter and urging him to sit.

"It's nothing. Just… can't help feeling like this is all about to go wrong, you know?" Jess couldn't hide the relief spreading across her face.

"Oh, thank God! I was worried I was the only one who felt that way!" Becker was visibly confused at this reaction, his face prompting Jess to elaborate. "I just mean, disaster is so normal in our jobs I was worried I was the only who was still phased by things like this. I thought to the rest of you it was just… you know, business as usual."

Becker couldn't help but smile at this. "While we've certainly dealt with evil clones before, this particular brand is uncharted territory for us. Which is what makes it so scary."

"And with Hunt showing up and throwing everything out of balance it's hard not to be worried. Impossible even," she said, taking Becker's hand in a moment of… something. If not affection, then certainly empathy.

And also, yeah, affection. Not that she could ever admit that to the stoic soldier who'd all but telegraphed his indifference to her infatuation with his stone cold, constant attitude. She could break through even to the likes of Lester with friendship, but the second she actually _liked_ a guy? Totally emotionally unavailable, no matter how hard she'd tried. Not to mention his -

"You're right, you know."

"Wait, what?" she asked, confused. She half wondered if she'd been saying those things aloud. Oh God, _please_ let that all have been in her head.

"You're right. In a way, disaster is run of the mill at the ARC. And maybe that should make me feel better, but -"

"It doesn't. Believe me, I know the feeling. It's like everything's going great one second, but you just know the other shoe is out there, about to drop and… Becker? Becker, are you listening?" About halfway through her sentence his head had abruptly turned to look at the television behind the bar, his eyes transfixed on the screen.

She craned her head to look, reading the words at the bottom of the screen. _"James Palmer, museum curator, speaks on today's extraordinary events, future of museum."_

"Becker, what is it?" she asked, waving a hand in front of his face. Finally he seemed to come to.

"Look at that man." Jess did as instructed, observing the man she assumed to be James Palmer, curator. He wore a blue pinstripe suit and his graying hair was slicked back. Next to him, a young reporter was holding up a microphone. They were standing in front of the museum, their backs to the site of her near death experience.

"Yeah? What's so wrong with that? They're just standing in front of the museum doing an interview. Pretty normal."

"Jess, they're both _standing._ When I interviewed the curator today about how to get into the museum, he was in a wheelchair. Jess, that man was a paraplegic, and now -"

"And now he's not." Jess stared at Becker, then at the screen, then at Becker again, quite unsure of what this information meant, yet also quite sure that it was something bad.

Something very, very bad.

* * *

 _Next time on_ Primeval:

 _Seeing the Core Team's increasingly fractured dynamic, Lester brings in an old friend to lead them in some team bonding at an exclusive, off-the-grid corporate retreat. But when an anomaly opens and the team finds themselves hunted through the woods with no gear and no way to phone home, they might get more bonding than they bargained for. Meanwhile, Emily risks exposing her secret to help someone displaced by an anomaly even as she grows more suspicious of the changes to the timeline she and the team have been noticing._


End file.
